


make your move (on me)

by hoppnhorn



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/F, Fem!Harringrove, Flirting While Fighting, Mutual Pining, Summer Love, billie hargrove - Freeform, i didn't want to accelerate too fast so this turned into something slowish, idk i might continue this one, stevie harrington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: “Harrington, wear your suit correctly or I’m throwing you out.” Billie barks, her shadow casting a dark outline over Stevie’s body. Robin, the freckled senior, sits up hastily and ties Stevie’s top so her friend can sit up and confront her.And confront Billie, she does.“Everything was covered, Hargrove.” Stevie hisses, her face red from lying face down and a little sweaty around her hairline. Her skin is probably hot to the touch all over and Billie is dying to find out just how endless her tan must be.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Heather Holloway
Comments: 12
Kudos: 222
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	make your move (on me)

**Author's Note:**

> Harringrove Week of Love - 2/15/2020 - Flirting while Fighting
> 
> Here's some fem!Harringrove for you...with a dash of Robin/Heather mutual pining and ridiculous cuteness. This turned into a mushy mess. Hope you enjoy!

Billie will never understand fucking  _ Hawkins _ . 

The place makes absolutely no sense. On the one hand, it’s a stupid little town in the middle of Indiana, with nothing to do and no where to go. 

On the other, it’s got beauties like Stevie Harrington walking around in it, like someone that  _ beautiful _ supposedly  _ belongs _ there. 

No. 

Billie’s lived in California, where people are supposed to be glamorous and  _ perfect _ and she has it on good authority that  _ Stevie _ is the prettiest girl in the entire world. Hotter than Brooke Shields. Hotter than Madonna. 

Knock-em-down fucking  _ perfect _ . 

And she lives in boring, old Indiana. 

So, of course, that means Billie feels  _ torn _ about leaving Indiana. Not because she actually has a chance with Stevie or anything -- she kicked the snot out of her six months before graduation. It’s pretty clear that the pretty girl of Hawkins wants nothing to do with Billie and her bruised knuckles. 

That’s why she really should just pack her shit and go. Get out of town while she still has some sort of reputation and never look back. Flip her dad the bird, tap some ass her entire way back to Cali to wash the Stevie Harrington out of her brain. 

But instead she’s sitting in a lifeguard stand, adding to her caramel tan with a few more hours in the lacking, midwest sun, and watching Stevie give half the male populous cause to go home and scratch that _itch_. 

It’s fucking annoying. 

In the year since graduation, Stevie is somehow hotter. Leaner, but toned, hair on point. Her lips look plumper, like maybe mommy and daddy had paid for lip injections -- Billie  _ knows _ that’s not the case. Pretty little Stevie can’t even get her daddy to hire her at the office. 

So she slings ice cream at the food court with that girl  _ Robin _ , who is definitely a dyke. Somehow, that only makes Billie want to throw her shit in a car and hit the road  _ harder _ . It gives her too much hope, watching her new bestie slather sunscreen on Stevie’s pale back, carefully lifting the  _ tiny _ straps of her bikini to get underneath.

Billie grips the arms of the stand like she wants to murder it. 

The hot bitches from Scoops, playing with lotion in front of dozens of pubescent boys like a couple of skanks. 

She wants to blow her whistle at them and ban them for being a  _ cliche _ . Her tongue rolls around the edge of the metal pinched between her teeth as she watches Robin’s hands push white cream all over Stevie’s skin. Making her  _ glow _ . 

Oliver runs from the ladder towards the diving board and it gives Billie just the excuse she needs to push her air into the thing, make the shrill sound ring out against concrete. 

  
  
  


“Is she still watching?” Stevie asks, devious as always, her face obscured as she lies face down. Robin splats extra sunscreen on her back just to be a  _ shit _ and Stevie yelps at the cold lotion. “Ugh, Robin,  _ what the fuck _ .”

“You’re being an actual bitch.” She rubs the sunscreen in, knowing that half of the stuff will probably end up washing off in the pool  _ anyway _ , but enjoying the brief distraction. “You know she’s over there, probably trying to murder me with her eyeballs, and you’re  _ enjoying _ it.”

“She deserves it.” Stevie mutters into her towel. 

“You’re supposed to be more mature than me, remember?” Robin quips, pinching Stevie’s side and dodging the slap of retaliation. “I’m the one still in high school.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to deal with Billie for most of your senior year. She’s the  _ bitch _ .” 

“Right. The bitch that smacked you around in the fall and kissed you during a party in the spring, I remember.” Robin rolls her eyes, pushing away the heat of a blush in her cheeks. She’s only  _ sorta _ made out with  _ one _ girl before -- so thinking about all the things Stevie’s done, with girls  _ and _ guys, makes her feel completely inexperienced. And envious.

What Stevie wants, Stevie gets. 

And even the ones she  _ doesn’t _ want, apparently, wind up confessing to huge  _ crushes _ in a bathroom a week before graduation. 

Then  _ never _ call. 

The truth of the thing is, Stevie  _ wants _ Billie but she’s too proud to admit it. And Robin is the only person who could ever say that sort of shit and not lose an eye. But, she’s also the only person who knows how  _ conflicted _ Stevie is about the whole thing. 

“You know you could just  _ talk _ to her.” Robin murmurs softly, wiping away excess sunscreen with Stevie’s towel. “She’s obviously into you and you need some sort of  _ explanation _ —”

“She’d probably drown me before admitting to anything.” Stevie grunts.

“Or maybe if you told her you  _ liked _ it—”

“I’ll do that when you tell Heather you like  _ her _ .” Stevie shoots back with a grin. A grin that says  _ checkmate _ . 

Because Robin’s whole body heats up from just the mention of Heather’s  _ name _ , let alone actually talking to her. Or looking at her. Or telling her how she feels. 

“Yeah, that will be  _ never _ then.” She mutters. “Because Heather is  _ straight _ , not to mention  _ wildly _ out of my league.” 

“Heather is a stuck-up ditz but I’m  _ supporting your choices _ .” Stevie groans into her towel. Robin snaps her bikini string against her ribs. 

“People call you a ditz too, ya know.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t  _ listen  _ to them either. Because I know you and you’re more than what people think.” Stevie settles with that, looking at Robin with her left ear flattened to her towel. She’s  _ pretty _ , Stevie Harrington. But she’s never been Robin’s type. Too girly. Too  _ mean _ , sometimes. But a good friend. 

“She’s not out of your league, by the way.” 

A  _ great _ friend, it turns out. Robin blushes as Stevie grins up at her. 

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, she’s not.” Stevie turns away, rocking her hips back and forth to get comfortable before she sighs. “Her  _ parents _ are, but she’s not.” 

And, it’s easy to read too much into that, with the way Stevie crosses her arms over her head and sets her forehead on them. Retreating into herself, deep in her self-loathing. But just for a moment. A temporary detour. 

“Untie my top, will you?” She asks, and Robin rolls her eyes. 

“You know this is a  _ public _ pool, right?” Glancing around, she sees all the boys glancing at them. Watching intently. 

If only Heather would turn her head and do the same. 

“I’m not going to flash anybody.” Stevie snorts. “I just don’t want  _ lines _ .” 

“You just want  _ Billie _ to lose her mind and drown me in the shallow end.” Robin grumps, but she obeys, untying the little straps to let them fall loose at the sides. 

Not that there was much to hide  _ anyway _ , but Robin can’t help but admire the swell of Stevie’s breasts from the sides.

“Heather would save you.” Stevie snarks, winking at her from over her shoulder. “Then maybe you’d get some mouth to mouth action.” 

  
  
  


Heather walks over a little before two, and Billie is about as twitchy as a tweaker when she taps her calf, jolting her from her thoughts. 

“Fuck.” She hisses and Heather snorts, lifts a hand to shield the sun. 

“Go take a break.” She nods towards the office and Billie sighs, watches Pete climb into Heather’s abandoned chair. 

“I’m fine.”

“Get lost, Hargrove.” Heather repeats, this time tugging on her ankle. And if Billie liked Heather  _ less _ , she’d punt the bitch in the nose. But she actually  _ enjoys _ her entitled bossiness so she slings her towel over a shoulder and climbs down without complaint. 

“Hope you burn.” She says with a smile and Heather winks. 

“Lick lead, babe.” 

For good measure, Billie smacks her ass when Heather climbs up, relishes the frowns of disapproval from the line of jobless pool mothers who whisper as she walks by. She winks at them, hikes the high cut of her suit to show off the  _ lack of fat _ around her hips and Brazilian from the week before. 

She’s hotter than all the cows ever were, and she loves to show it off as she struts. 

At least, until she reaches the Scoops skanks. 

Then she really just wants to murder something. 

Stevie’s tits are out and pressed neatly to her towel as she suns her back, her bottoms tucked into her ass crack until there’s barely anything covering her up. 

It’s delicious but. 

“Harrington, wear your suit correctly or I’m throwing you out.” Billie barks, her shadow casting a dark outline over Stevie’s body. Robin, the freckled senior, sits up hastily and ties Stevie’s top so her friend can sit up and confront her. 

And confront Billie, she does. 

“Everything was covered, Hargrove.” Stevie hisses, her face red from lying face down and a little sweaty around her hairline. Her skin is probably hot to the touch all over and Billie is dying to find out just how endless her tan must be. 

Stevie has a private pool, after all. 

“If you want to lie out naked, go home.” Billie growls. “This is a public pool.”

“Oh so your camel toe is allowed, but mine has to  _ go home _ ?” Stevie shoots back, and a few nearby boys snicker as Stevie licks her glossy bottom lip. Grins. 

Like she’s  _ won _ . 

“If you wanted dirty talk, Harrington,” Billie purrs, stepping in close, nearly chest to chest, “all you had to do was  _ ask _ .”

“Fuck you.” Stevie pants. Not yells, not even a  _ snap _ of her pretty, white teeth. Breathy.  _ Wanting _ . 

“Sure.” Billie grins. “I get off at four.” Stepping away, she pops her whistle into her mouth. “Until then, keep your tits  _ covered _ .” 

  
  
  


The  _ second _ Billie is gone, Heather lets her guard down. Lets her gaze wander from her spot in the pool over to the two girls lying out. The one Billie so  _ clearly _ wants is hunched over on her towel, typing on her phone while her friend sits back in her chair. Watches from a foot away. 

Heather watches the friend, wonders why she comes to the pool when she never gets in the water. Or steps out from under the coverup she wears each time. Her skin isn’t  _ so _ fair she’d burn, not with the proper sunscreen. And she’s not  _ fat _ . Not in the least. 

Under that oversized t-shirt  _ thing _ is a body that deserves to be put on display. 

Like Stevie Harrington does  _ all the time _ . 

But it’s not like Heather can saunter over and blow her whistle at the chick and say, “take off your clothes.” 

She  _ could _ but she’d definitely be fired. 

And outed, to like, the whole of Hawkins. 

Which isn’t a grand idea. Not when her dad is about as old-fashioned as they get and the key to her college fund. 

She can’t afford to piss him off, so she doesn’t. 

She dates the dumb jocks and hot losers her dad likes, cheers for them when they play football or whatever. And then dumps them before they can figure out she’d rather kiss a pretty, preppy cheerleader than a sweaty, stinking quarterback. 

Heather isn’t like Stevie Harrington. She can’t get away with murder and still expect a roof over her head after high school. 

But her freckled friend is the first girl to catch Heather’s eye enough to consider it. Not  _ murder _ of course. But maybe a kiss. 

  
  
  


“She’s deranged.” Stevie hisses, for probably the sixth time. She knows she’s starting to sound fucking  _ annoying _ by the way Robin just keeps ignoring her, swiping through Instagram. “ _ I get off at four. _ ” 

“You’re letting it bother you a whole lot for someone who doesn’t  _ want _ her.” Robin chimes in. “Besides, you were trying to get her attention and look—” She gestures towards the office where Billie vanished minutes ago. “You got it.” 

“I didn’t want her to  _ embarrass me _ in front of the whole pool.” Stevie grumbles back. But even she knows that’s a  _ feeble _ reason for her current state of shock. She couldn’t care less about the pimply idiots sitting just out of earshot. Eating popsicles and staring when they think she isn’t  _ looking _ . 

“No one  _ cares _ .” Robin drawls, before plopping her phone on her towel and leaning back in her chair. She’s  _ bored _ and Stevie suddenly feels bad. Feels  _ guilty _ for dragging Robin here when she  _ hates _ people in general. 

That and all she can do is pine endlessly after a straight girl. 

“Would you do it?” She asks, chewing the inside of her cheek when Robin whips her head around. 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t  _ play stupid _ .” Stevie smacks Robin’s arm and her friend grunts, batting her away. “If you were me, what would you do?” 

“With Billie Hargrove?” Robin snorts, unladylike but totally  _ Robin _ .

“What if it were Heather?” Stevie shoots back. Then, like a complete  _ dick _ , she waves at the lifeguard in question. 

The girl turns her head, and then gives her a single shake of her hand with a sort of,  _ annoyed _ grimace on her face. 

“Jesus, you’re embarrassing.” Robin smacks her hand down. “She’s  _ looking _ .”

“Of course she is, it’s her  _ job _ .” Stevie laughs, her anxiety finally  _ fading _ as she waves with her other hand and Heather just  _ stares _ . 

Robin pinches her tit and Stevie yelps like a wounded dog. 

“I will  _ actually  _ kill you if you don’t stop.” Her friend hisses, her face cherry red, and Stevie laughs. 

“Think about it though.” She breathes, brushing Robin’s hair from her face with a single finger, even though her friend pushes her touch away. “If Heather came over here, and said what Billie said to me, what would you do?” 

Robin flushes all the way down to her chest and Stevie sighs. Drops her hands. 

“That’s what I thought.”

  
  
  


Dan is staring at her tits when Billie looks up from the office desk, a mouthful of Doritos sloshing around as she gulps down mountain dew. 

“Eyes up, or I’ll punch your dick.” She says after a thorough swallow, and Dan looks up, rolls his eyes. 

“Shut up, Billie. You’re dropping chips down your suit.” 

Sure enough, there’s powered orange on her skin when she glances down, mutters a curse and tries to brush it  _ up and out _ while Dan goes back to his phone. Probably reading reddit and adding his dumb two cents to everything. 

Leaning towards the counter, Billie glances out to the pool, sees Stevie still lounging where she left her. Not running. Not packing up her stuff and retreating like she  _ could _ . 

Now that it’s creeping up on three. 

“You should have let her leave the top untied.” Dan mutters, not even looking up from his phone. “Denying the rest of us the chance to see Stevie Harrington’s tits is just  _ cruel _ .” 

Billie kicks his chair and it rolls down the counter, Dan’s expression unfazed. 

“It’s against Pool Policy, Mr. Manager.” She quips, throwing her empty Doritos bag at his head. Missing, because the stupid thing catches a breeze and winds up on the floor. “Remember, the  _ rules _ .” 

“Mrs. Gallagher does the same shit and you’re not telling her to lock it up.” Dan says, this time looking directly at her when Billie sucks chip debris from her molars. “Is it only the girl you  _ want _ that can’t show off their side boob?” 

Billie freezes, her heart going rabbit fast in her chest. But Dan merely shakes his head, goes back to his phone. 

“It’s 2020, Hargrove. Try not to look so fucking  _ freaked _ .” 

“You shouldn’t talk about stuff that isn’t your business.” Billie hisses, which is just about as threatening as she can be with the man who approves her  _ hours _ . 

Dan merely shrugs. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be a  _ dick _ to the girl you like.” He counters. “And let her go topless.” 

When he lifts his head, Dan grins. 

“Everybody wins.” 

  
  


The pool only has one good thing on the little  _ menu _ at the snack bar. Mango peach smoothies made with the fakest of all fake fruit juice and nothing but purified white sugar. 

Robin knows the stuff is going straight to her ass but she loves the refreshing cold on a hot day. And Stevie’s  _ paying _ so, she treats herself to the second most expensive thing on the menu. Stevie just wants  _ bottled water _ . 

Like, she could barf at how snobby Stevie can be. Or  _ appear _ . But she’s a good person, really. A loyal friend. 

A cranky  _ whiner _ , but a good friend.

She tucks Stevie’s change back into the little coin purse and manages to press the cold water bottle to her chest while sipping her smoothie when she turns and nearly runs smack into another person. 

Or well,  _ Heather _ .

“Oh jeez.” The other girl says, hands reaching out to stop Robin from pitching backwards into the grass or forwards into her arms. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching—”

“No, it’s my fault—”

“I’m never looking—”

Eventually Robin looks towards her towel and Stevie, who’s not paying attention and mindlessly browsing on her phone. Her safe place. Away from Heather and the  _ blush _ that’s filling her face. 

“I’m Heather.” 

Robin locks eyes with her and the blush only burns brighter under her skin as she sort of, dips, and says, “Robin.” 

Heather smiles. And then laughs.

“Did you just, curtsy?” 

Robin sputters her own laugh, far louder than necessary and far too  _ alarmed _ to be real joy, and she sees Stevie look up from the corner of her eye. 

“I did. Wow. That was... weird.” 

“No, it was cute.” Heather grins. “I’ve never had anyone curtsy to me before.” 

“Seemed rude not to.” Robin replies smoothly, her usual causally nerdiness easing her tightly wound exterior. “After nearly smashing into you.” 

“Well then,” Heather bends her knees, dipping in her own form of a curtsy that has Robin blushing all the way down to her  _ toes _ , “Sorry for nearly ruining your smoothie. That would have been  _ tragic _ .” 

Robin’s about to laugh when an arm wraps around her throat. Pulls her in close.

“Is that my water?” Stevie asks, grabbing the bottle and kissing Robin’s cheek. “Thanks.” 

“Hey Stevie.” Heather says, her voice  _ at least  _ sixteen degrees colder. Robin tries to smile, but she probably looks like she’s grimacing as Stevie slurps her water, takes her merry time before she replies with a feeble  _ hey _ .

“It was nice to meet you.” Robin manages to blurt before she’s rushing away and Stevie saunters after her. Always too cool to  _ run _ . 

“What the  _ fuck _ .” She hisses at her friend, throwing the coin purse at Stevie’s  _ gut _ . “Did you need to be a complete  _ bitch _ —”

“Oh,  _ relax _ .” Stevie purrs, leaning back in her chair, her body draped over the thing like she’s posing for a magazine or something equally  _ ridiculous _ . “Haven’t you heard of playing  _ hard to get _ ?” 

Robin baulks. 

“Hey, dumbass.” Robin leans close, flicking Stevie’s nose. “She’s—”

“As straight as I am.” Stevie says with a smirk. “She was totally flirting.”

Robin gapes, like a fish. Words gone. Like her IQ. 

“You two are like middle schoolers. I wave at her, you freak the fuck out. She comes over here, you look like you’re having a stroke.” 

“She was just being  _ nice _ .”

“She  _ just _ traded chairs with Billie and she’s already taking a break?” Stevie points out, sitting up to look the way of the women’s room. “Sure, she really needed to piss.” 

“Maybe she did.”

“Or maybe she saw you alone at the snack bar and made an excuse to go over there.” 

“But…” Robin watches as Heather reappears, barely a minute after ducking into the restroom, and heading back to her chair. 

“Point made.” Stevie says with a grin, lounging back in her chair. “Now take off that stupid coverup and show the straight girl your tits.” 

  
  
  


Billie almost ducks out through the locker room just to save herself the embarrassment of being  _ stood up _ at the end of her shift. If you can even  _ call _ it that. She’d more or less conned Stevie into meeting up and yet she’s got butterflies in her stomach from the idea that Harrington might actually  _ show up _ . 

Or go along?

Billie’s about ready to laugh it off like it was a joke the whole time when she’s changing back into her street clothes. She’s even got her smile all rehearsed. 

_ You thought I was serious? _

“Hey!” Heather shouts, nearly in her  _ face _ , and Billie grabs onto her locker to keep from falling over.

“Jesus,  _ what _ ?” She snarls. Heather doesn’t look offended. She doesn’t even look phased, her grin only growing. 

“I’ve been talking to you and you haven’t heard a word, have you?” 

Billie straightens her shoulders, fiddles with the wide-neck t-shirt draped over her collarbone. 

“Must not have been worth  _ listening to _ then.” She hisses, content when she can see the shimmer of her mom’s necklace peeking out. Just a hint. 

“I  _ said _ ,” Heather drones, “that if you like Stevie, you should just  _ tell _ her.” 

Billie snorts. Mean. Then slams her locker closed.

“Tried that.” She grunts under her breath. “Didn’t change much.”

“Then try  _ again _ .” Heather says  _ loudly _ in her ear. Billie pushes her away, relishes the whine of irritation from Heather’s pouty face when she bouches off her locker. “For someone so  _ pushy _ , you’re acting like a real wimp.” 

And Billie’s about ready to rethink her tenuous _ friendship _ with the preppy little lifeguard when a timid voice breaks the tension in a word.

“Uh…” When Billie whirls around, Stevie Harrington is staring at the both of them. Eyes darting back and forth. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—” Her cheeks flush a vivid shade of red and Billie glances at Heather. Sees her standing there in just a bra and shorts, Billie in her  _ panties _ . 

“You’re not.” Billie grunts. “Jesus, Heath, put on a  _ fucking _ shirt. You’re scaring the princess.” 

Heather sighs, pulling her red guard tank over her head. With an equal amount of sass, she turns to gaze on Stevie. 

“For what it’s worth, she’s  _ happy _ you’re still here.”

“No I’m—” Billie stumbles on her own tongue before Heather cuts her off at the knees. 

“Oh shut up.” 

Stevie’s mouth pulls up at the ends, a little grin hidden in the soft lines of her lips. And Billie’s stomach flips over, her hands going clammy. Stevie’s  _ not leaving _ . 

“If you  _ like _ someone, you tell them.” Heather says _ pointed and fucking loud _ and Billie pretty much tries to kill her with a stare. But she doesn’t dare open her mouth. 

Not when Stevie’s face is blushing a pretty shade of pink and Heather is giving them both such a  _ triumphant  _ grin. 

Like she knows she’s won. 

“Have a good night, you two.” She says quietly, before plucking her duffle from the floor and heading for the exit. “Remember to use your  _ words _ , Billie!” She adds. 

“Fuck you! Those are words!” Billie shouts after her but the door slams before she can  _ really _ stick the landing and Stevie bites her lip. Laughing silently. 

“She’s cooler than I thought.” Stevie eventually murmurs, stepping into the room casually. Billie wants to retreat. Wants to  _ run _ . It’s one thing to be confident when you’re drunk off your ass or playing  _ god _ with a whistle around your neck. Barking orders. 

But she’s stone cold sober and officially off the clock and Stevie is locked onto her like a fucking  _ laser _ , crossing the room in her bare feet. 

“She’s really  _ not _ .” Billie remembers that she’s supposed to  _ talk  _ and Stevie rolls her eyes. 

“You’re really not what you pretend to be, are you?” Stevie declares, getting  _ close _ now. Closer with each breath, it seems.

“What the fuck does—”

“You were  _ serious _ that night.” Stevie pushes on. “When you had me up against that sink, whispering that you  _ want _ me, that you  _ need _ me.” 

Billie swallows hard because Stevie’s got her cornered, shrinking back against her locker.

“I don’t remember that.” She lies. Stevie shakes her head. 

“You’re a lot sweeter than you want people to believe.” Her hand settles on Billie’s hip and Stevie steps in close. So close, Billie can see the flecks of gold in her irises. “Aren’t you?” 

Billie can’t goddamn breathe. But she also can’t lie. 

Not when Stevie is looking at her like  _ this _ . 

“I like you.” Billie whispers. 

“I figured that out.” Stevie snarks, wrinkling her nose. A retort is on the tip of her tongue, but then Billie never gets to use it.

Because Stevie is flattening her against the lockers to kiss her. Soft but forceful and  _ practiced _ . She licks into Billie’s mouth and the moan that escapes her parted lips is  _ horrifying _ . 

But Stevie swallows it up with one of her own, holding her head in both hands. Kissing her. 

“I think I like you too.” Stevie whispers when they break apart for air. Billie can’t get enough of Stevie on her tongue, chasing her kiss with hungry lunges of her own. “When you’re not being a  _ dick _ .” 

“You like it.” Billie grins, kissing her way down Stevie’s neck. Her swan-like neck. Down to her collarbones. “You like it when I’m  _ mean _ .” 

“I like you better like this.” Stevie moans as Billie gets both hands on her pert little tits. “ _ Oh _ .”

  
  
  


Heather is a little relieved when she doesn’t see Stevie  _ or _ Billie come flying out of the locker room as she signs out at the desk. She’s nearly skipping out to her car, twirling her keys around her finger. 

_ Nice work, Heath _ . She mentally pats herself on the back, only to instantly find herself  _ distracted _ . 

Robin is lounged across the backseat in Stevie’s convertible, sunning like a cat with a book shading her face. 

_ Persuasion _ . 

“I was always more of an Elizabeth Bennett type.” She says. 

Apparently  _ too _ abruptly, as Robin nearly drops the book on her head. 

“Oh  _ sorry _ —”

“I’m good! It’s fine.” Robin sits up and the two of them awkwardly exchange little smiles until Heather remembers her  _ own _ goddamn advice. 

_ If you like someone, you tell them _ .

“Stevie might...be a while.” She says instead and Robin sighs. 

“Yeah, I thought about walking—”

“I could give you a lift?” Heather offers in a rush, dangling her keys as if they were evidence to the affirmative. “If you want?” She tacks on quickly. 

Nothing too pushy. It’s not like she’s  _ done _ this before. 

**Author's Note:**

> might continue this one...who knows...
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/hoppnhorn)


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